


Neighborhood A12358V

by Sarahc9162



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27524812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahc9162/pseuds/Sarahc9162
Summary: Welcome to the Original Neighborhood A12358V (YES THE V IS INTENTIONAL), BEFORE the reboots, this is the first – official start Michael made –This is connected to the story – One Last Time, For Old Time’s Sake. It’s not necessary to read that one, but if you’re wondering what the “lost memory” was from that story- this will be your answer. This maybe read as a stand alone. Hellstrop forever!
Relationships: Janet & Michael (The Good Place), Janet (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop
Kudos: 6





	Neighborhood A12358V

Neighborhood A12358V:  
The Original Blueprint; (The lost Memory)

Note: This is a connected to the story – One Last Time, For Old Time’s Sake. It’s not necessary to read it, but if you’re wondering what the “lost memory” was from that story- this will be your answer. This maybe read as a stand alone. Welcome to the Original Neighborhood A12358V, BEFORE the reboots, this is the first – official start Michael made –

Comments are appreciated. Thanks :)

Michael was dressed to the nines. Donning an intentionally pretentious bow tie, slicked back snow white hair, and skintight suit he slid his office chair into his desk. The skin suit wasn’t one he had chosen, but it felt like home just the same. There was a symmetry to it; just the right amount of handsome authority figure, just the right detriment of age and obstacle. His eyes remained the same river blue, the only remanence of his true being still exposed. The rest of his essence was simmering beneath the surface. 

Shuffling papers needlessly, wondering if this was going to be a huge mistake, was how he started the last few days. He had created the neighborhood with Janet just three days ago and had spent every waking moment in his new ‘office’ since. 

Mostly he would review the human files attempting to plan his every move. He knew their interactions could intertwine them in a million different ways. So how could he ever be sure things would go as planned? Because if they didn’t, he knew there was only one option for him. Was retirement really worth trying something different? 

It was a question he wasn’t able to find an answer to these past few months. Even the “all-knowing” Janet he snatched from the good place, couldn’t give him one. 

“Unclear,” was what she had said, followed up by, “It could depend on what happens next,” when he pushed her for more. His forlorn expression cast a shadow upon the room and when he pulled his fingers through his hair in frustration, she offered him only an apologetic smile in return. 

So, he rebooted her. No one, or nothing was allowed to get close to him. And that minuscule act of empathy, no defiance, was too much. What was the point of having an all knowing being if it didn’t know what he needed it to? Besides, what was with that look in her eyes? No. Empathy would not be tolerated. 

It was a rule ingrained from the dawn of time into all demons. Feelings of empathy, sorrow, love, they made you weak. And demons were not weak, they were literally designed to be the superior race. Besides, Janet’s whether good or bad were not supposed to infer things about others. What was it about this Janet that was different?

After his hasty act of pushing her reboot button Michael wasn’t sure what to expect. He had never rebooted a good Janet before, so he couldn’t know what was going to happen when she came back. After waiting for what felt like an unprecedented amount of time, he feared she rebooted to the real good place and he had lost her. But soon he heard her omniscient ‘bing’, across the neighborhood and sat back down at his seat, sighing in relief. 

When Janet was reprogrammed, he was unprepared for how much she had learned. She was able to express her first feeling mere hours later. A new fact that caught both of them by surprise. While he had done his best to leave her alone and not request much for most of the day, he actually needed her help now. There was one final meeting he had to get to with Shawn. 

“Janet, get me the files please,” he requested, running late for his briefing. This was his chance to get the final go ahead; to prove to Shawn he had planned for every human interaction and how to subdue it. Everything was riding on this. 

His previously slicked back hair was pulled to the side, his tie undone as he shoved papers into his briefcase. He had lost track of the bearamies when trying to figure out what ‘dessert’ place would be the least fulfilling. How had he spent so much time studying something and now he was having a hard time remembering the smallest of his ideas. 

“Which files Michael?” Janet asked, binging in with her normal cheerful disposition. 

“The ones on the humans-“ he began annoyed looking up at her while simultaneously pinching his finger in the brief case lock, “damnit!” he growled throwing the suit case across the room.

Janet simply walked up to him taking his finger in her hands. She held it up inspecting it, before waving her hand across it. When she moved her hand, still holding his he dared to look. The pain was gone and on his finger was a small green band aid with little dinosaurs on it. Had she read his file? How could she have known his deep love for them? 

Demons weren’t supposed to care about anything. But he sobbed that day the dinosaurs went away. They were the closest thing to a ‘free-andd’ he ever had. Or what he imagined one would be like. But if she did read his file, why, and why would she care?

“There you go, good as-“ she offered in her cheery tone, but Michael felt something shift in his chest. Something he didn’t care for at all. 

“I don’t need you to baby me, I need you to get the damn files now,” he snapped, ripping his hand out of her grasp. 

It wasn’t that she had really done anything wrong. The rational part of Michael’s brain knew that. Janet’s, good Janet’s at least, were meant to heal everyone in their neighborhoods. But the first human was due to wake a mere twenty-four hours from now, and her kindness was confusing him. He couldn’t have anything or anyone throwing him off balance now, he already didn’t feel ready. 

But he didn’t have a chance of pulling this off without her. He knew he needed to apologize before he game himself away. Surely no one in the ‘real’ good place would treat a Janet that way. Though, when he looked up to apologize, he hesitated. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t place. It wasn’t shock or horror at his outburst. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed she was contemplating something hard. Had she discovered this wasn’t the good place? 

“Or what,” she began hesitant, then seeming to give in blurted out sharply, “are you’re going to reboot me again?”

The words left her mouth as quickly as she covered it, seeming to realize what she said. He could see her eyes scanning what appeared to be nothing; Searching through her database as her system attempted to discover what was malfunctioning. It was unorthodox of Janet’s to have opinions or feelings, and if any of them ever had, they had never expressed them.

“I apologize for that Michael,” she began, needlessly clearing her throat, “perhaps you should marbleize me and use another Janet. It seems your reboot has caused me to malfunction a bit. Apparently, I can feel things now.” She resumed her stance, clasping her thumb in her hand a bit automatically, as if letting herself go on autopilot. 

But all Michael could do was smirk, oh she was going to fit in quite nicely here. There was something about the fire in her, even though he only saw it for a second, that he adored. It reminded him of his best childhood friend Korzoff. Sure, he was all ten heads and loyalty for the most part but scratch his chins wrong and you’d be in for it.

“I like the advanced you just fine Janet,” he offered to soothe her discomfort. And seeing her relax just slightly, he tested, “But how would you feel about just a little bit more advancement?” 

Janet tilted her head up to the sky on an angle as if she was truly thinking and unclenching her thumb she smiled. 

(Two days later) 

“It just seems impossible there’s no way to predict every human interaction, and relationship. I don’t even know how these disgusting piles of goo work. They love each other, they hate each other, they’re forking each other even when they hate each other, none of it makes sense!”

Michael had been pacing back and forth in the room, venting to Janet. While he had managed to get through his final briefing with Shawn, somehow convincing him he could handle this, he was starting to get cold feet. There was too much that could go wrong, too much he couldn’t predict. Everyone was watching him, this had to be a success. 

“Putting on these skin suits unfortunately provides little clarity on their thoughts and reasoning,” Janet agreed apologetically.

“There such simple creatures, it shouldn’t be this hard!” he growled, stopping in front of his silver spoon on display. Janet had solved his dessert issue after her third reboot the other day. It had been close to fifty now, and he was truly intrigued in how advanced she could truly become. 

“Well, perhaps to think like a human, you need to be a human,” she suggested. The words sank into Michael’s mind, like water seeping through soil. Of course, that was it. He could never predict every thought or anticipate all the actions of a human because he wasn’t one! Somehow seeming to understand Michael’s train of thought she summoned the files and handed the stack to him just as he was turning around.

“It’s brilliant, you’re brilliant!” Michael exclaimed, 

“Technically I am a genius, yes.” She agreed.

“But who to choose?”

“Based on my calculations of the highest chance of success and the greatest probability of cooperation, I’d select this one,” she said, pointing at the file on top. 

Michael grabbed the file smiling with glee, he held it up in the air. Yes, this was perfect. But he realized Janet would need to be filled in if this plan was going to work, on the truth, the whole truth.

“Janet,” he began, suddenly nervous, “Before we do this, there’s something I need to tell you,-“

*-----*-----*-----*-----*

Her eyes were sealed shut. Like super glue stuck to the side of her finger as she tried to stick on her fake nails in a cab. There was nothing but darkness and silence surrounding her. She could feel her limbs, her presence inside of them so she could tell she was sitting; but she was unable to move. 

In the background she could hear voices, had she passed out at a bar? Was she roofied by some Arizona scum bag without the balls to get it up without a struggle? Fork, fork. Wait, why couldn’t she say fork? God maybe she was really losing it. Slowly the voices began to fade into the distance, and she felt her hands and legs finally responding to her command. 

Feeling the air absent in her chest she startled, as she opened her eyes.

She was in an office room, or some sort of waiting room. Was this some sort of sick prank her friends were playing on her? Why couldn’t she remember anything after the supermarket? That little dweb all horny for the environment harassing her, and then... nothing. What was going on? Looking up there was a message painted in a beautiful green script on the wall. 

“Just come in,  
 ” 

With an arrow pointing towards the only door in the room. Well, surely this was some kind of trap, or a really bad trip of some sort. But she clearly didn’t have much choice in the matter. So, she figured she might as well roll with it. Besides she was kind of digging the apathy of whoever wrote that message on the wall. 

She stretched her limbs as if testing the waters as she stood, and it was incredible how light she felt. Whatever this high was, it wasn’t half bad. She glanced at a small mirror to the left of the door and walked over to peer at her reflection. She looked good, like the legit snack that she was, but definitely not high. Hm, well, there was obviously only one way to the answers she was seeking, and there was literally an arrow leading the way.

As she approached the door it opened slowly, but surprisingly with no creak in toe. ‘Freaky’, she whispered as she stepped through the doorway. First, she saw a beautiful brunette in a purple vest, standing far to erect to be real. But the woman was smiling at least, which immediately brought her comfort. As she nodded and rounded the corner there was a desk that housed an equally erect sitting man, who stood as she came about-face. 

“Eleaner,” he said, as she held back her tongue, dying to correct his mispronunciation. “As you may or may not have yet figured out, you have died,” he began calmly in his authoritative tone he’d been practicing on Janet for days.

“cool, cool,” she said, as he motioned for her to sit. She did so gratefully no longer feeling as light and high as she had moment ago.

“And I’m?” she asked, pointing up and then down with her thumb and a questioning glance. 

Michael glanced over to Janet making sure one last time they were on the same page. She agreed to at least try to understand why Michael’s form of torture was a blessing compared to the real bad place. He had never been so thankful for her various reboots as he was in that moment, the moment she showed him the one thing he feared, empathy. 

Janet gave him a smile and a nod of assurance, before Michael turned back and said,

“You Eleaner Shellstrop, are in the bad place.”


End file.
